Playing Dangerous
by Princess Ashmedai
Summary: Alfred found out Ivan's guilty pleasure and of course he's going to mess with him. Not much nicely, but that's the intention. [noncon/dubcon AmeRus - PWP]


Alfred smirked as Ivan's strong legs trembled and his pale skin turned reddish, every muscle contracting and sweating deliciously. And the vibrator has been just halfway on his ass.

That pleased moan of the Russian one made Alfred's effort to lubricate enough totally worth it; the sound sent shivers down Alfred's spine. Ivan didn't dare to look back, his face half-sank on the pillow. His body was down on all fours in the bed.

"Hah, you _actually _like this kind of thing, don't you?" Alfred mocked. The guy didn't even try to hide the smug smile on his damn (but oh so gorgeous) face.

Discovering the Russian's _guilty pleasure_, quite literally, was the best thing that ever happened that year. Never thought that he would be amused in pleasuring Ivan in any way ever possible, but it ended up being as satisfying as imagining him in pain. Felt better than doing any torture, any murder… It was just the best way to go for getting his ego beaten and reduced as a filthy whore's condition; or even better...

"Aren't you just another _closet faggot_, then?" Alfred's voice was in such a self-satisfied tone that could've made Ivan puke…

If only that term didn't fit him so perfectly… That's not a thing the European would admit even for himself, but he wasn't stupid, he knew he was in fact covering something.

"You will _deeply_ regret this shit later, Alyushka." Ivan replied in a harsh and angry tone.

But really, with that embarrassed and enraged frown Alfred caused him? Ivan seemed so mad the other blonde smirked in a self-satisfied way for having him restrained with a straitjacket. 'Suits him so well', Alfred mused as he approached Ivan's face, taking his scarf off.

"Don't think so, hun." mocked before biting and bruising his already scarred neck hardly.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" the Russian huffed.

The blonde American just pushed the device deeper, setting up to the maximum.

"That's not the best way for thanking anyone, Ivan."

And the Russian couldn't even think of holding his cry of pleasure when the vibrations reached the prostate. It was just fucking impossible.

Ivan didn't know what was worse: Alfred saying he was doing any good act of kindness or Alfred spelling his name so fucking wrong when the American already knew how to spell the name of his god damn nemesis, that's for sure.

Alfred still was really near his face and he didn't even grimace at the look of pure hatred in Ivan's face.

"Aw, don't look at me like that." the American whispered softly instead, tilting his head to the side.

God, if Ivan wasn't shaking, panting and fucking restrained by a fucking straitjacket that he didn't even know where Alfred got from (not that it really matters now), he would step the fuck out of his face, splash his blood everywhere.

And then, Alfred said. "See, I'm doing you a favor. And you are loving it. Hah."

"Do me a _real_ favor and go fuck yourself. And give me my scarf back." Ivan stated roughly.

"Whoa, wash your fucking mouth, ok?" the blonde snorted, crossing his arms. The scarf was still in his hands. "If you wanna, come and get it. It's that simple."

Ivan felt the anger, but also felt his hard cock brushing softly on the sheet. Every aspect of this was mind and body blowing, for all the bad and really good reasons.

Alfred smirked once again.

"So you're really going to _come_, huh? And I didn't even fuck you."

"I wouldn't even feel-" panted. Ivan's body was unquiet with this hot pressure in his belly. He was about to come.

"Ask _Irinka_ about it." Alfred teased.

Ivan heard his teasing, but his mind gone blank, overwhelmed with sensations given the orgasm. The American took a quick glancing at the picture, giving a cheap smile before ending the recording, placing his cellphone in his pocket. Alfred could hear a vague mumble from the Russian, but didn't even mind turning off the vibrator and just left him on his own.

'Mission perfectly accomplished, Jones.' muttered for himself, grinning as he left the hotel to the airport.


End file.
